


Choices

by daire



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-17
Updated: 1999-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daire/pseuds/daire
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	1. Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Choices by Daire

_Choices_

  
By Daire 

 

Okay, you remember those "choose your own adventure" books from when you were a kid, or when your kids were younger? Where at the end of each chapter you had a couple choices to where the story went next? Well, that's what this is....only with one chapter. The very end is the same for whichever you choose. You'll see. :-) 

* * *

"Come on, Richie, just for fun!" Jenna prodded. She was trying to get him to go into the "fortune teller" tent. _Five bucks to 'read' my palm? C'mon._ Skeptical of psychics and the like ever since his friends had paid one to tell him something that wasn't true, he was reluctant. When the girl he had a crush on rebuked him, he vowed to never believe a "psychic" - or his friends - for a while. 

By now Jenna was practically pulling Richie into the tent. Nothing said he had to listen or believe her. He acquiesced and gave up the struggle. The sudden release of tension made Jenna stumble and almost sent them both through a self made entry into the tent. "Could you give me a little warning first?" 

"I'll try. Let's get this over with." He tried to not sound too begrudging. 

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. It'll be fun." _Riding the Ferris Wheel and the ring toss are fun. Not someone telling lies._

"Its part of the carnival experience. But you never know, she could be right about some things." 

"Yeah, right." Without another word, Jenna yanked him inside and sat down. After a few moments, a large woman with a gypsy flair to her garb came from behind a curtain and stopped. She looked at Richie quizzically, which made him a little uneasy. 

Did she recognize him? Did she know he was Immortal? Was she a Watcher; or worse, a Renegade Watcher? _She_ wasn't an Immortal. _Weird._

"I am Madame Sabrina. Reader of past, present, and future." _Yeah, for a price._

"Me first." Jenna handed over five dollars and stuck her hand out on the table. Madame Sabrina studies Jenna's hand before speaking. 

"You will live a long life; will be happily married; but you are in the dark right now. Someone is keeping a secret from you." _That could apply to half the population,_ Richie thought. 

A little confused, Jenna gives Sabrina a quick thanks. Shaking it off, she hands over another five dollars. "Your turn Richie." 

"No, no, let's just go. We've wasted enough of Madame Sabrina's time." 

"Nonsense, give her your hand." Richie really didn't have a choice, Jenna grabbed his hand and held it on the table until Sabrina had taken hold. 

"You have a very long lifeline, but it is broken and branched out. You have very old friends, and those that would kill you for only one reason. Bur you're not sure you want your life." 

Pulling his hand away, Richie got up to leave. "Thanks, I think I've heard enough. C'mon Jenna. Have a good night Madame Sabrina." Just as he was about to follow Jenna out, Sabrina stood up and grabbed Richie's arm. As she pulled something out of her pocket, she told him "We each choose our own life's path." She placed the item, something metal and round, into Richie's hand and folded his fingers over it. Then simply concluded "One wish. Wish wisely," and disappeared behind the curtain. 

He didn't want this. Without looking at what she gave him, he pulled back the curtain and started to tell her to take it back, but she was gone. A cat stared back at him, and nothing rustled or moved as though someone just left. _The cat?.....Nah._

Sighing in defeat, he walked back through the curtain and out to a waiting Jenna. "Where did you go? I thought you wanted out of there?" 

"I did, but she gave me this thing. I don't want it, so I followed her through the curtain to give it back to her. But she was gone." 

"What is it?" 

"I don't know. I haven't even looked at it closely. Feels like some sort of medallion." Opening his hand, it gleamed from the lamplights and moon. There were what seemed to be ancient markings around the outside edge, and the center had a moonstone surrounded by stars. 

"Did she say anything about it when she gave it to you?" 

"Yeah. 'One wish. Wish wisely.' That's it." 

* * *

_A few days later_

So far, Richie hadn't done anything with the medallion, except stare at it or stick it in his sock drawer. He hadn't decided whether to bring Mac in on it. Or if he'd even use it. He had tried to go back to the carnival to find Sabrina and ask her more about the medallion and the wish he gets, but they had already packed up and moved on. Asking around, no one could tell him where they had definitely gone next. He'd just have to figure it out on his own. 

He didn't even know _what_ he'd wish for. Money? Love? To be President? To be the greatest motorcycle racer? To be The One? Mortality? 

He was, deep down, not happy about his Immortality. Living forever, or at least a really long time has its advantages, having other people come for your head was starting to be a drag. 

As a mortal he would have a relatively normal life, ability to have kids, to watch them grow and not be older than himself, not have to move every 15 or 20 years, not have to chop heads off. 

But choosing mortality could mean he'd never have met Mac or Tessa, Amanda, Joe, Methos....or all the bad Immortals who wanted to kill him. He could have married Donna, and Jeremy could have been his son. Richie wanted to give a child the loving family he never had. 

_Decisions. There are good and bad things about both. I can't wish to combine the two. One or the other, no matter what._

* * *

_Later that night in bed, still thinking about it and rolling the medallion between his fingers, he makes his wish....._

Reader's Choice #1 | Reader's Choice #2 | Reader's Choice #3 

* * *

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

Nessa's Heavenly Creations 

* * *


	2. Choices: Choice #1

Choice #1 - Choices by Daire

_Choices_

  
By Daire

Choice #1 

  
....that he'd never heard of Immortals. 

Nothing happened. 

No swirls of light and wind, no sudden appearance to somewhere else; nothing. _So much for that. Maybe it's just as well._ Dismissing the situation, since he didn't really believe it would work, he threw the medallion onto the nightstand and went to sleep. 

  


The alarm clock went off with its annoying _beep beep_ and Richie shoved his head under the pillow. _It can't be morning already, I just went to sleep._ He felt an arm fall across his chest, startling him since he knew he'd gone to bed alone. Sitting up and looking to his left, his eyes fell on Donna. Before he could comprehend the fact, or say anything, a child's cries were coming from the other room. To this, Donna shoved her head under the pillow. __

It worked, I don't believe it. But I still remember Mac, Tessa, Amanda, being an Immortal, my first Quickening... After a while, all his memories of Immortals faded and replaced with those of his mortal life and that with Donna and Jeremy. 

Richie still remembered the freak with the sword from when he tried to rob Mac's antique store. Tessa was still gone; instead of at Roszca's hand after escaping Pallin Wolf, she and Mac had been struck by a drunk driver. Mac still blamed himself. 

Richie worked for Mac at the antique store and at the dojo, but since he wasn't Immortal Mac never felt the need to tell Richie about them. 

When Donna had come back claiming Jeremy was Richie's, he took them in. As usual, Mac was concerned and urged Richie to have a blood test to verify Jeremy was his. So, eventually, after the expected arguments, Donna relented and the tests came back that Richie was the father. Richie could finally have the life he never had. 

Mac protected them the best he could from his Immortal life. He contemplated telling them, but he wasn't sure how Donna would react. Richie would stand by him; he could be loyal to a fault. Then if Donna knew, and didn't want Jeremy growing up with that danger, she could take Jeremy away from Richie. Which would devastate him. No child should grow up without both parents. And Mac was rather fond of Jeremy himself, who referred to him as "Unkie Dunkie." 

But if he didn't tell Richie about Immortals, Mac would never forgive himself if something happened to him, Donna, or Jeremy. 

He could tell Richie and let him decide whether to tell Donna or not. 

Mac hadn't decided by the time he left for Paris. If anyone came looking for him, he rather doubted they would harm Richie. He wouldn't tell them where he was; just that he'd be back in a couple months. 

  


Everything went rather smoothly for a while, and only two suspicious people came by the dojo looking for Mac, to which Richie told them he'd be back in about two months. He was promptly told to let MacLeod know they'd see him when he got back. 

The third was a woman. She definitely gave off an air of distaste for Mac or anything to do with him. Richie, Donna, and Jeremy were having lunch in the dojo office when Jeremy spotted the woman and said "Unkie Dunkie," which made Richie look up. Anyone with a long coat on was Unkie Dunkie. They could put a long coat on a tree and it would be Unkie Dunkie. 

When she walked in she stopped to look around and take in the surroundings. A quick look of disappointment crossed her face as Richie watched her from the office. She was a striking woman, with fair skin, auburn hair, and stood a couple inches taller than Richie. 

"Keep Jeremy down out of sight and try to stay inconspicuous." 

"What's going on?" 

"I'm not sure, something about this woman who just walked in doesn't seem right. Just stay in here." 

Richie walked out of the office and over to the woman. "Can I help you? This is a members only...." 

"I'm looking for Duncan MacLeod." 

"He's not here." 

She glared at him. "I _know_ that, that's why I'm looking for him," she seethed. "Where can I find him?" 

"He's on vacation, he'll be back in a few weeks. Can I tell him who he'll be expecting when he gets back?" 

"Jenna Thomas. Don't forget to tell him." 

"I'll go write it down right now." Jenna gave a curt smile and left. That kid got on her nerves. Richie walked back into the office and was met with a toddler with a face smeared with peanut butter and jelly and a big grin. "Hey buddy, that food is supposed to go in your mouth, not around it." He gave Jeremy a quick tickle on his stomach, which resulted in a loud giggle. "Let's get you cleaned up." 

"What did that woman want Richie?" 

"Someone looking for Mac. What? Did you think I was hiding another woman from you?" 

"No, I'm not that paranoid. Just curious." She paused, a bit hesitant. "But I also know you're not _in love_ with me. And only Jeremy keeps you with me." 

Richie was silent for a few moments as he finished cleaning Jeremy up. He knew she was right, but he was determined to give Jeremy two parents that loved him and were together. "I'm devoted to both of you. I will be there for you as long as I live." 

"I know, Richie, I know." 

* * *

A couple weeks later, Jenna reappeared, this time she just walked straight back to the office. "He's not back yet?" 

"Obviously not." 

"Well, where the hell is he? I can't spend forever in this city." 

"I don't know, he didn't leave his travel itinerary with me. Besides, if you're going to be that rude, I wouldn't tell you anyway." 

"Don't start with me, boy." 

That did it, he hated being called "boy." "Don't start with _you_? You come into my office, in my business, and you threaten _me_?" 

"You don't know who you're dealing with." 

"Yeah, I do. Some pushy woman looking for MacLeod. A lot of people look for MacLeod. And come to think of it, most of those who do - I've never seen them again. He's a good guy, wouldn't hurt anyone unless he had to. What did he do to you that you hate him so much, save your life?" 

"Yes. But I'm not mad at him for that." 

"Then what?" 

"He killed my husband!" Richie was taken aback. The surprised look on his face told Jenna that he didn't know about Immortals. This gave her pleasure in knowing she could use that to her advantage later. 

The Mac Richie knew would never kill anyone on purpose. He'd never even had to see him kill anyone in self-defense. "You're lying. Mac would never kill anyone." 

"Well, he did." She paused for a moment. "You don't know do you?" A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face. 

"Know what?" 

"Oooh, you don't! Why don't you ask him what happened to all those others that came looking for him and you've never seen again." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go." With the grin still on her face, she left, a plan forming in her head. 

* * *

About a week later, Mac finally came back. Joe had dropped him off after getting back from Scotland, and Richie was in the dojo office waiting for him. Mac wasn't expecting to see Richie there that late. 

"Hey Rich, what are you still doing here?" 

"I had a little bookkeeping to catch up on," he lied. "How was your flight?" 

"Nice and uneventful. Any messages or anyone looking for me?" 

"Yeah, as a matter of fact. A few phone messages, and a couple people stopped by. Two guys who didn't give their names, just said they'd come back by; and a woman who said she was Jenna Thomas. She didn't say what she really wanted, just that she'd come by - which she did about a week ago. She isn't too friendly." 

"No, I don't expect she would be." 

Richie hesitated before asking about what Jenna had told him. "She said you killed her husband." 

"I did." Mac's face revealed practically nothing, as usual. He had decided against telling Richie about Immortals, but now he figured he'd probably have to. 

"What?" Richie asked completely bewildered. 

"It's not what you think." Mac remembered when Jenna begged him not to fight her husband over an eighty-year feud. "But it's a long story...." 

"Was it self-defense? If so, I can leave it at that." 

"Yes, it was, but there's still more you need to know, but I'm too tired right now to explain it all. Why don't you come by when you can get away for a while?" 

Richie nodded. "Sure. Donna and I are taking Jeremy to the zoo tomorrow, so I'll come by after that. But you don't have to explain anything else to me." 

"Yes, I do. Don't worry about it until tomorrow, go be with your family." Mac relished the word "family" and how close he came to having one with Little Deer and Kahani, and his own parents and clan that had banished him. As much as he longed for a family, he knew he probably never would have one. 

Richie put on his coat as Mac got into the elevator. "Oh, you're going to have to make time for a visit with Jeremy, he'd like to see his Unkie Dunkie." 

Mac smiled at the name bestowed upon him by the toddler who was unable yet to make the last syllables of either word. "I will. See you tomorrow." 

"Night Mac." 

* * *

Richie was about a block from the dojo when he saw a car with its hood up and someone leaning over the engine. He couldn't pass up the chance to show off his knowledge of mechanics, and to help someone. The person didn't seem too happy with their vehicle. Richie pulled his motorcycle up behind the Volvo and walked to the front of the car. 

"What seems to be the problem?" 

An auburn haired head looked up. "Nothing anymore. Thanks for stopping." 

"Oh, its you, never mind. I'll be on my way." 

He turned to leave her, but she stopped him. "I don't think so." Facing her, Richie saw her pointing a gun at him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"You'll find out soon enough. Get in the car." With a gun pointed at him, Richie felt he had no other choice. Reluctantly, he got in the car. No point in dying by doing something stupid. He had Jeremy and Donna to think about. _Mac will find me._

They drove right by the dojo. If only Mac had been outside or at a window. But he didn't know Mac would sense someone going by. Of course, by the time Mac would get to a window, they'd be out of sight. 

"So what do you plan on doing? I'm not going to help you with anything." 

"Oh, much more than you think. You're going to get me Duncan MacLeod." 

"You're insane." 

"Do you know how annoying you can be? Just shut up and enjoy the ride." 

They sat in silence as she took the longest route to her destination to try to keep Richie disoriented. He'd given up long ago. He just wanted this thing to be over. She was just using him to get to MacLeod. 

After what seemed like a couple hours, she finally got to where she was going. She pulled the car around to the back of the house. There wasn't anyone or anything for a couple miles, and the house looked as though it hadn't been lived in for a while. 

"Get out." Richie got out and shut the car door and stood there. "Inside. Do I have to tell you each move?" 

"Well, I don't want to make a wrong move." 

"Go." Inside, she tied Richie's hands and feet to a chair and left him for a while. _Great, how do I get myself into these jams?_ He hoped Mac would get there soon before she lost her mind and did anything drastic. 

* * *

It had been a couple hours since Richie had called Mac to say he was on his way over, and Mac was getting concerned. Especially with Jenna out there. He had been her teacher, so she could be dangerous. 

He had found her, newly Immortal in 1958, on a stormy night after she'd been struck by a car while walking along the road. She had spent five years with MacLeod until she went off on her own, keeping in touch for the next twenty years or so, until they had a falling out over her fiancé. 

MacLeod and Michael Krane had met eighty years earlier in Boston, and he had been a friend of Axel Whittaker. Krane had taken advantage of a family MacLeod was a friend of and raped their eldest daughter. She had been unable to deal with the rape itself, or the shame she felt it had brought her and her family, and committed suicide. Duncan had vowed to take care of Krane, at any cost. 

When Jenna brought Michael to meet Duncan, he told Jenna what he was, but she disregarded it, claiming Michael had changed. Even Michael claimed he had, and didn't want his past to jeopardize his future with Jenna. But Duncan couldn't believe him nor forgive him. 

Duncan's blessing would have meant a lot to Jenna, and not getting caused a rift between them. He didn't hear from her again until he ran into them at a New Year's Eve party about ten years later. The marriage didn't seem like a happy one anymore. Michael treated her like a subordinate, verbally and sometimes physically abusing her. Not even letting her carry her sword. Jenna was lucky he hadn't taken her head during one of his rants. 

When Duncan saw how he was treating her, he warned him to stop, but instead Michael Challenged him. Jenna begged them both not to fight, not wanting to lose either of them. Duncan was willing to relent, Michael wasn't. 

Michael initiated the fight, and he fought well, but not well enough. Duncan tried not to take his head, but the Force of the Gathering overpowered him. He saw the look of grief and anger on Jenna's face as he received Michael's Quickening. 

Duncan tried to stop her, but all she could do was defend Michael and issue her unwillingness to forgive Duncan. After she left, he never saw or heard from her again. 

But now she was back, and in the mindset to kill him, maybe even someone close to him. _Richie._

* * *

It was starting to get dark out and Richie still hadn't shown up. He called Donna, asking if Richie was there, trying not to sound like there was something wrong. She said he'd left mid-afternoon for the dojo, and hadn't heard anything from him. Obviously, this worried Mac. 

That fleeting buzz could have very possibly been Jenna this afternoon, maybe even Richie with her. He wasn't going to sit around and wait for a phone call, so he went out to see if he could fine any clues. 

He didn't have to look far. Richie's bike was right where it had been left a block away. There weren't any other tracks to follow. _Damn pavement, can't track anyone these days._ Not knowing where to go from there, Mac went back to the Loft. Jenna could be anywhere, and he was pretty sure Richie was with her. 

Mac had been pacing for about half an hour when the phone finally rang. "Jenna?' he answered. 

"I'm touched Duncan, that you would be waiting my call," she replied with false flattery. 

"Where is he?" 

"Whoever do you mean? If you mean, Michael, he's right where you put him." 

She was trying to anger him and it was working. "You know damn well I mean Richie." 

"Oh, he's right here. But he can't talk, he's tied up at the moment." 

"Not funny. How do I know you haven't killed him?" He knew she hadn't, otherwise she wouldn't have anything to bait him with. Confirmation would still be welcome. 

"You don't. But I'll let him say something." There was a pause and silence. Then Mac heard Richie. 

"Mac? I'm fine." 

"Do you know where you are?" 

"No, some house. Listen, Mac, she's crazy. It's a trap --" there was a smack as she punched him to shut him up. 

"Richie?!" 

"Chat time's over." 

"Don't come Mac --" Richie called from the background. 

"Where?" Mac asked. 

"I think you know where." And the phone hung up. He could he forget, be so blind? 

The house she'd shared with Michael. 

He almost left his sword; he didn't want to kill her. She _had_ been his student, but getting Richie out was his first priority. He could kill her if he had to. 

* * *

Richie was gagged again and sat glaring at Jenna, who had a smug grin on her face. She was waiting for Mac to show up. So was Richie, no matter he tried to warn him not to come. He wanted to get away from this psycho-chick. 

About an hour later, Mac finally showed up. Jenna had stolen to another room, leaving Richie in plain sight. It was like a classic Hollywood plot. 

Mac saw Richie through the window as he cautiously approached the house. He was glad to see Richie still alive. Predictably, the front door was unlocked. Once inside, Mac went over to Richie and only got as far as ungagging him before Jenna came in. 

"So nice of you to show up Duncan." Jenna had her sword in her hand, the point on the floor. 

"Let him go. He's not part of this. Doesn't even know about us." 

"He does now." 

Richie could only stare at the sword. He hadn't seen one, other than those on the walls of the dojo, since he tried to break into the antique store. "Uh, guys, what are you talking about?" 

"I'll tell you about it later, Richie." 

"Not if I have anything to do about it!" Jenna lunged at Mac as he whipped out his katana and blocked her blade. Richie looked on in wide-eyed amazement. The Knights of the Round Table. It was too much to absorb at once. He tried to scoot the chair out of the way of their swinging blades. Mac was winning, Jenna hadn't even gotten in a nick. 

In a flash, their positions had changed and Jenna was closer to Richie. She was getting tired and unsteady on her feet. She tried to parry one of Mac's lunges, which she only partly did. The blow to her mid-section sent her reeling against the wall near Richie, and the blade of her sword across Richie's chest. He screamed at the searing pain as Jenna composed herself to face Mac. Mac's fury at Richie's being hurt overtook him. As Jenna looked up, that split second gave Mac his chance. With a clear path, his katana sliced through her neck. 

The Quickening was over soon, and Mac crawled over to Richie, untied him from the chair and laid him on the floor. "Just lie still Richie, you'll be okay." The blood had almost completely stained the front of his shirt. If he didn't die from shock, it would be from blood loss. The gash was deep, Mac could see bone. 

"What...was...that? What _are_ you?" 

"It's a long story Richie. That's what I was going to tell you today...but don't worry about it now." No point in burdening him with the knowledge that he would live forever and Richie wouldn't. 

"Please, Mac...tell me...before I...." 

"You're not going to die Richie." Blasted false hope. He didn't want to lose Richie...what would he tell Donna? 

"Don't...I know... Please...take care...of Jeremy and Donna..." 

"I will." _This is all my fault, if only I'd told him sooner..._ Another of a thousand regrets. Richie was beginning to gasp for air as the loss of blood robbed him of his oxygen. 

"I'm just sorry you got pulled into this..." 

"S'okay...what is 'this'?" 

Mac took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm an Immortal, I can't die, unless someone takes my head." 

"Then...I guess...you won." He couldn't help give a small chuckle. Leave it to him to make an understatement at a time like this. "Mac...I never...thanked you...for everything." 

"It was my pleasure." A smile graced Richie's face as the last syllable came out, his body then stiffened and spasmed, his eyes closing and releasing the last breath of air from his lungs. Mac closed Richie's eyes and sat with his friend in his arms. 

Click for ending 

* * *

To the Beginning 

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

Nessa's Heavenly Creations 

* * *


	3. Choices: Choice #2

Choice #2 - Choices by Daire

_Choices_

  
By Daire

Choice #2 

....that he'd never been an Immortal. 

Nothing happened. 

No swirls of light and wind, no sudden appearance to somewhere else; nothing. _So much for that. Maybe it's just as well._ Dismissing the situation, since he didn't really believe it would work, he threw the medallion onto the nightstand and went to sleep. 

  
The next morning Richie woke up to his phone ringing. _Who could be calling this early?_ The sun was just beginning to rise. "This better be good or heads are going to roll." Speaking of which, he noticed his sword wasn't where he usually kept it at night. This realization woke him fully. "Hey, can you hold on a second?" He didn't wait for an answer. Setting the phone down, he moved the bedclothes out of the way to see if it had fallen....gone. Under the bed....gone. Living room....gone. Closet....gone. _What the hell? Oh my god, it worked. The damn thing worked._

Remembering the phone, he picked it up. "Ok, sorry." 

"What's happening?" 

_Joe. Great, I still know him._ "Nothing, just thought I lost something important." His memories were beginning to alter as his wish settled in. A lot of memories of Jenna. 

"Did you find it?" 

"No, I don't think I need it anyway. So, what's up?" 

"I just got back from meeting with Konstantin's Watcher and the sweeper team, Jenna lost." 

"What?" he choked out. _No, she can't be._ "Why didn't someone call me sooner?" 

"Rich, I called you as soon as I could." 

"I should have been there watching her....its all my fault...." 

"You couldn't have interfered if you were, you know that." 

"But it's my job to watch her!" 

"You can't blame yourself. You know that. Immortals live and die." 

"Maybe I could have stopped her from fighting him. I tried last night. She must have gone after I fell asleep. Its all my fault." 

"Come over to the club, she left something for you." 

"I don't know when, but I'll be there sometime today. I need some time to myself with this. And I'll tell Mac." It was coming to him. He had begged her not to go. They both knew Konstantin was stronger. Perhaps Mac would have helped. Jenna was, _had been_ , his student. But she needed to do it herself. She'd been running from him for 70 years. _Damn you Jenna. What am I supposed to do now?_

Richie could still feel the touch of her skin against his and smell her perfume on her side of the bed. 

Mac needed to know. He had cared for Jenna, as he did Richie, like a father. Richie dreaded it, the man hardly showed emotion anymore. After 400 years he had become all too familiar with losing people he cared about. Except for Tessa, Richie can't remember when Mac had shed a tear in front of anyone else. He knew Mac did, just in private. 

Richie dragged himself out of bed and showered before heading over to the Loft. He barely felt the water hit him, he was still numb from realizing the Jenna was gone. When he got to the dojo, Mac was in the middle of a kata routine, so he waited for him finish. 

Grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, Mac walked over to Richie, studying his face. "She's gone, isn't she?" Richie couldn't even speak, he just nodded and hung his head, trying not to let the tears show. "Its okay Richie, you can let them go. Do you want to go upstairs?" 

"No, I gotta be doing something. By myself." 

He knew what was on Richie's mind and warned him. "Don't go after Konstantin, he'll kill you too." 

"Not yet. I'm heading over to Joe's, he said Jenna left something for me. And hopefully there'll be another assignment for me for when I finish a final report on Jenna." The word "final" seemed to echo in the silence. Anger and grief struck him at once. 

"Richie, you know that if you need anything...." 

"She came to see you before she fought him didn't she?" Mac nodded. "She didn't even say good-bye to me!" 

"She knew that if she did, you'd follow her and probably get yourself killed too." 

"I'd have had to go anyway, I'm - _was_ \- her Watcher!" 

"Then she would have died for nothing! She was saving you from the same fate. She loved you, that's why she had to go without you. I'm sure she told you good-bye one way or another." 

"I've gone over it a thousand times, she really didn't. I gotta go." 

"Richie...." 

"I know Mac, thanks. I'll call you later." 

* * *

With a deep breath, Richie walked into Joe's. It was still early and the house band was practicing, but otherwise, the only people around were a couple waitstaff and Joe. Seeing Richie, Joe let everyone take a break. 

Richie took a barstool at the end of the bar and waited for Joe. On his way over, Joe picked up a beer and an envelope. "How are you holding up Richie?" 

"About as well as I can." He lifted the beer, told Joe thanks and took a deep swallow. 

Joe handed the envelope to Richie. "Jenna left this for you." It was her stationary. The cream colored envelopes and the paper inside simply embossed with her initials. _JMT_ \- Jenna MacLeod Thomas. She chose her middle name to honor Duncan for pretty much being her father. Richie turned the envelope over and over with his left hand, looking at it, wanting to tear it open right there. But he wanted to be alone when he read it. Part of him didn't want to read it, perhaps because it would mean she really was gone. Maybe they were mistaken, it could have been someone who looked like Jenna. 

Joe interrupted Richie's thoughts. "I know this isn't the best time, but you need to get your final report in on Jenna." 

Ignoring this, Richie voiced his thoughts. "Are you sure it was Jenna? It could have been someone else, Konstantin's Watcher could be mistaken...." 

"It was her Richie." Reaching under the bar, Joe brought out a sword. Jenna's sword. The blade of her swept-hilt rapier gleamed around the blood that was still on it from the cuts she got in on Konstantin. "She wanted you to have this too. Sorry I didn't get a chance to clean it." 

Richie sat silent, staring at the sword. _What am I going to do with her sword? This is all I get of what's left of her life?_ "Where is she? Konstantin's slimy Watcher better not have left her." 

"No, I went in with the sweeper team. She's at Mort's." He should have known. They used Mort's funeral service frequently. Since he was in Immortal too, they knew he wouldn't ask questions and he'd keep his mouth shut. 

Sliding Jenna's letter into his jacket pocket and taking hold of her sword, Richie got up to go. "Do you want me to go with you?" 

"No thanks, Joe. Just let Mort know I'm coming, if you don't mind." 

"Not a problem. One more thing Richie. Remember to keep your report professional, I don't know what would happen if Headquarters got wind of the fact Jenna and you were involved. They'll probably be sending me a new assignment for you soon." 

Richie shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever." What's the difference? He didn't care what happened. The Watchers knew Richie had known about Immortals, taken in by Mac and Tessa after he tried to rob their antique store. But the implications of what he could have told her about other Immortals would be there, and a Tribunal would probably be formed to investigate. 

Now he knew how Mac felt when Tessa was killed. He could have been too if Jenna hadn't been visiting then and made sure he didn't follow Mac to rescue Tessa from Pallin Wolf. Feeling this way was terrible. If only he had never encountered Immortals. Or ran the other way when he learned of them, or when Joe suggested Richie become a Watcher. 

_Damn it all._ If it weren't for Richie's desire to go after Konstantin himself, he'd get on his bike and just ride until he couldn't anymore. 

_First things first,_ he thought. _One final good-bye._

* * *

She looked peaceful and serene. A scarf had been placed around her neck to hide the stitches. Her auburn hair framed her face and contrasted her fair skin. If only he could see her eyes once more, alive and full of joy. To carry the sight of him with her forever as the last thing she saw. Instead of a sword blade slicing through the air. 

Richie wished with everything that she'd open her eyes. But she didn't. What was beneath the scarf was proof that she wouldn't. _Why? Why did you have to fight him?_

For a long while, until Mort came back in, Richie sat in the cold deafening silence, silently crying. Wiping his face, he made a vow to Jenna. _I swear Konstantin will not get away with this. One way or another, he will die._ Before leaving, he gave her one final kiss good-bye. 

* * *

The sun was shining for her funeral, a slight breeze. A perfect spring day. Only Richie, Mac, and Joe remained as they lowered her casket into the ground and replaced the dirt. He still couldn't believe she was gone. As they finished and left, Richie stood, staring at her simple headstone. 

_Jenna MacLeod Thomas_   
1973-1999   
Daughter. Sister. Friend. Lover. 

He hadn't shed a tear since he saw her at the funeral home. Truth was, he was damn near catatonic. 

"Richie, I think we should go." No response. "Richie...." Without any acknowledgment that he'd heard Mac, Richie placed some flowers at the base of her headstone. "I'm going to kill him Mac." Without looking at Mac or Joe, he turned and headed towards the car. 

This wasn't the time or place, but he knew Mac would try to stop him. He knew Mac would take care of Konstantin himself if Richie asked, but he wouldn't. He promised Jenna that _he_ would. And nothing could stop him. 

Right now, he supposed he should go play host to everyone who had attended Jenna's funeral. The three men rode in silence to the Loft, each recalling memories of Jenna. 

* * *

_A few weeks later_

Except for keeping tabs on his new assignment, Richie barely left his apartment. When he wasn't trailing Davis Cooper, he was tracking Konstantin. The moment he came anywhere near Seacouver, his head was going to roll. 

Evidence of Jenna's existence was slowly disappearing. Her scent had worn off her clothes and the sheets, her perfume gone from the air, and Richie had to get rid of most of her things. He couldn't bear to look at it anymore. What Mac or Joe didn't want to keep, he gave to the Salvation Army. All he had left was some notes and letters, her favorite sweater, some pictures, and her sword - which he would use to kill Konstantin. 

Finally, he decided to read Jenna's final letter to him. Sitting on the couch, he slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the pages. Even though he was used to it, the sight of her neat cursive handwriting caught him off guard. Taking a deep breath, he read her final words. 

_Dear Richie,_

If you are reading this, it means Konstantin won and I am gone. Please don't blame yourself, there was nothing you could have done. But I died knowing you loved me, and that you would live on. 

I didn't tell you because I knew you'd follow me, both as a Watcher and my lover, to interfere and try to stop me. Do not go after Konstantin. Do not avenge my death. This is how Immortals live, and die, you know that. 

I did say good-bye to you, while you were fast asleep. You had that slight grin you get when you're having a pleasant dream. That will be the image I take with me if I lose this fight. 

Live your life. Do not grieve long for me, I lived a good life, no regrets. You and Duncan are the best family I've ever had. I love you. Until we meet again ~ 

_Love, Jenna_

_I'm sorry, Jenna, I already promised to kill him. I won't let him live with what he's done._ Konstantin never cared for anyone, or what someone else would feel. And he would have no problem in killing him. Richie would just have to keep his guard up. Konstantin would die. 

If he could, he'd follow Konstantin to wherever he was. There hadn't been any new reports on him in the last week or so. Hard to keep tabs on the guy that way. Not that his new assignment would allow him to leave the area. Davis Cooper was a new Immortal, and still hadn't found a teacher. Richie considered suggesting to Mac that he teach him, but Mac wasn't in the mindset to take on a new student, and he had plans to go to Paris. 

He hated to think it, but maybe Cooper wouldn't last long. Then maybe he could take a short sabbatical from the Watchers to hunt down Konstantin. 

Then his break came. A new report that Konstantin was on his way back to the States. _Have that bastard come back here. That's all the reason I need to kill him._

* * *

Richie unsheathed Jenna's sword. He had cleaned it before putting it away, and now it gleamed in the sun's light. Closing his eyes, he remembered the times he had watched Jenna practicing with Mac or by herself. She had moved gracefully, as though without effort, blocking even some of Mac's more difficult lunges. She was almost as good as he was. _If only she were a bit better...._

He finished sharpening the blade, then walked over to the closet. Reaching up to the shelf, Richie took down the lock box that held his gun. _I don't have to follow the Rules of the Game._

Konstantin was staying at a posh hotel, but he'd have to go out sometime. Richie would wait for him. No matter how long it took. 

He didn't have to wait long. Inside of an hour, Konstantin had left, and Richie followed him to an abandoned warehouse. The same one Mac and Connor came to practice at. Konstantin went inside after looking around to be sure no one was around. He must have felt the Buzz, because his hand swiftly went to his sword. 

Richie stayed hidden until Konstantin was well inside before he left his hideout. Stealthily, he took a position by some broken out windows and looked inside. Who he saw momentarily stunned him. 

_What the hell is he doing here?_ He had to get pictures of this, there was no mention anywhere of Konstantin and Methos - or any of his aliases - ever crossing paths. 

Richie snapped a few pictures, then tried to hear what he could of their conversation. 

Methos stood with his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, its point in the dirt. Both were in a relaxed but ready stance. 

"Can't you leave things alone? That was 200 years ago!" 

"I promised to kill you then, and I intend to keep that promise, Dr. Adams." 

"Over a few horses? C'mon. Besides, we needed a getaway. Maria's father was right on our trail. And I returned them." 

"I don't care. The punishment for horse theft is death - " 

"Not anymore." 

"In my book it is." 

"There's got to be a statute of limitations on this." 

"Quit stalling, I'm keeping my promise." Konstantin took a defensive stance, engaging the duel. 

With a sigh, Methos raised his sword. "Fine. Let's finish this." Konstantin made the first strike, which Methos easily parried. 

Methos was a friend and all, but rage coursed through Richie. They were fighting over horses that have been dead for 200 years! There was no way Richie was going to stand by while they fought about something so ridiculous. Not while Jenna lays cold in the ground. 

Immortals _couldn't_ interfere; but Watchers, they weren't part of the Game, they just _shouldn't_ interfere. There was no question that Richie would. He would avenge Jenna, even if he died doing it. 

The two Immortals continued their battle, both looking a bit tired. Each had gotten a good cut in on the other, only making them worn out a little more while they healed. Then Methos found an opening as Konstantin lunged a little too far. This gave him the opportunity to strike a mortal blow, running Konstantin through the heart. "I should have kept the horses," Methos remarked as he yanked the blade out and Konstantin died. 

As he was about to make the final deathblow, Methos heard the footsteps just before the words. "Don't do it Methos. He's mine." 

Without moving, Methos turned his eyes to Richie. "What?" 

"You heard me. You can still have his Quickening, or not, I don't care. But _I_ want his head." 

"Don't be ridiculous. He'll kill you first." 

"No he won't. I don't have to fight fair." 

"It won't bring Jenna back." 

"No, but I vowed to avenge her. You can't change my mind." 

"Then you're a bloody fool." Before Richie could respond, Konstantin gasped as he revived. He was visibly surprised he was still alive. But the scene had changed. The runt he had seen Jenna with had a gun on Adams, who still had his sword in striking position. Jenna's sword was in Richie's other hand. 

_Good, now I have the chance to kill him twice._

"No such luck Richie." Methos raised his sword to regain distance to strike, then his sword fell behind him at the impact of the bullet. It happened so suddenly, he didn't hear the gun go off. He had a look of surprise as he fell to the ground and died. 

Konstantin seized the moment that Richie faltered at the realization that he'd shot a friend and grabbed hold of his sword. He sat up and lunged enough to bring it up and sink six inches of the blade into Richie's mid-section. 

Now Richie was the one with the surprised face. 

"Did you really think you could kill me, Runt?" he asked as he twisted the blade and Richie winced at the pain. 

"I still do." Richie replied through clenched teeth. He aimed the gun at Konstantin and shot him twice in the chest and once in the head. 

Fighting collapse, he dropped the gun and raised Jenna's sword. Konstantin's sword was still where it stuck, if he took it out he would bleed to death sooner. It was the only thing that was hindering the bleeding. 

_This is for Jenna._ Then he swung, killing Konstantin for good. 

Relieved of the pressure, he relaxed his muscles and gave into the pain, falling to the ground. He watched as Konstantin's Quickening struck the lifeless Methos, flailing his limbs about like a rag doll. Konstantin wasn't as old as some Immortals, but his Quickening seemed to last a long time. Maybe it was because Richie's time was limited now, and he held each moment as long as he could. 

Especially when he thought he saw Jenna in the midst of the Quickening's shadows. "Jenna," he murmured. It wouldn't be long now before he was with her again. 

* * *

Richie knew he wouldn't last long, but he wanted to hang on long enough for Methos to revive. There were things he had to say before he died. By the time Methos came back, Richie was numb to everything from his chest down except for the pain. 

Richie couldn't help but chuckle when he heard Methos. "Bloody hell. Why can't I keep from getting my favorite sweaters ruined?" Upon hearing Richie's choked laugh and not seeing him standing, Methos quickly got up. Seeing Richie soaked with his own blood, he rushed over. "Dammit, Richie, I told you." 

"Don't chide me now old man. Just listen, I'm not going to last long." Methos held him tighter in an attempt to keep Richie from racking too much as Richie had a coughing fit. Methos reached for the blade still in Richie, but was stopped. "No, not yet, leave it." Another coughing fit. 

"Take it easy I'll get some help." 

"Don't bother, I won't last that long. I'm okay with it." 

"Richie...." 

"Stop." A grunt of pain. It was Death setting in. "Tell Mac and Joe I'm sorry and I hope they can forgive me. Tell everyone else 'good-bye.'" Methos was going to try to tell him he was going to be fine, but he knew he'd be lying. He'd lived long enough to know mortals knew when they were going to die. Why waste his last moments? 

The latest coughing fit ended and Richie continued. "You can take it out now," and nodded at Konstantin's sword. 

"Are you sure?" Richie nodded. "Alright, take a deep breath and hold on." Methos grabbed a hold of the blade, and held his other on Richie around the wound. As he felt Richie brace himself, Methos asked "Ready?" An affirmative grunt in pain. "On three. One....two.... _three._ " Richie let out a loud half grunt, half scream of pain as the blade was removed. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, peachy. I'm ready for the marathon." 

"Smart-ass." Blood gushed out of the wound at the sudden opening. It was draining Richie of his energy, and his oxygen. He began to gasp for air. His eyes glazed over, and he grasped for Methos. "I'm here," he reassured him. 

After one last fit, Richie's body began to relax slowly. As Methos closed his eyes, not wishing to see one more person he's known die, he heard Richie whisper his last wish. "Have Mac put me next to Jenna." 

"I will." 

With that confirmation, Richie closed his eyes, exhaled his last breath and his body fell limp. 

  
They buried Richie on a sunny day, next to Jenna. Her sword at his side. 

Click for ending 

* * *

To the Beginning 

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

Nessa's Heavenly Creations 

* * *


	4. Choices: Choice #3

Choice #3 - Choices by Daire

_Choices_

  
By Daire

Choice #3 

....that he'd never broken into the antique store. 

  


Nothing happened. 

No swirls of light and wind, no sudden appearance to somewhere else; nothing. _So much for that. Maybe it's just as well._ Dismissing the situation, since he didn't really believe it would work, he threw the medallion onto the nightstand and went to sleep. 

  
He wakes up, but closes his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge morning had arrived. They popped back open. _This isn't my apartment._ A sword, which must be his, was next to the bed. But where was he? 

Richie got up to look out the window, but it wasn't even Seacouver's skyline. Is Mac here too? Or Jenna? Or....or who? He couldn't think of their names. Pulling out his wallet, he looked at his driver's license. _Richard Ryan, 124 Bankhurst, Apt. 4D, Seacouver, WA._ Well, that didn't help. He clearly was not in Seacouver. _The medallion worked. It's incredible, but it worked._

His memories were beginning to replace themselves. Instead of the stable life with Mac and Tessa, he had a life of continued crime. The attempt to rob that antique shop had gone sour when some huge guy with a sword had shown up. Richie had been a few minutes longer, trying to keep out of police view. They usually kept an eye on people who didn't look like they belonged in that part of town. 

After seeing the Hulk, and the two others inside with swords, Richie had booked out of there. It was too strange for him. But that didn't discourage him from stealing for very long. And he never told anyone what he'd seen at that antique store. No one would have believed him anyway. 

It was a couple months later when Richie was in the same neighborhood where he saw Errol Flynn and his friends, that he met Grayson. 

The guy had a strange air about him, and had been watching Richie for a few minutes, hoping he could get the kid to do something for him. But he couldn't decide if he wanted him as his protégé or not. It had been so long since he'd taken a student. 

When the boy got close enough, he caught his attention. "You look like you could use a job." 

Richie stopped. "You talkin' to me?" 

"Yes." 

"Do I look like a charity case to you?" 

"Yes, but that's not why I asked." Richie glared at him. "It's purely for my own gain." 

"Oh, well, that changes everything. No thanks." 

"I can pay you well. And all you have to do is deliver something." 

Richie pondered this for a moment. What could it hurt? What's an extra job in one night? "Alright, What is it?" Grayson explained what he wanted. "You're kidding right? Just deliver a package for that much?" His laugh was cut short by the glare he received. "Where?" 

"There's an antique store down that street..." 

"Whoa, hold on right there. I ain't goin' anywhere near that place!" 

"What is the problem now?" he asked, agitated. He definitely wasn't taking him as a student. 

"The last time I was there, some strange stuff was goin' on." 

Grayson laughed now. "You won't have to worry about that, you'll be gone before they realize anyone else is around. Trust me." 

"I don't trust anyone. But give me the package and the cash." Grayson handed him the package and told him he could have the cash after he delivered. Richie did as he was told and headed back to Grayson, who handed him his pay and told him to forget about him and what he had Richie do. 

When he left Grayson, Richie hid out for few minutes watching him. He didn't do a whole lot. He moved closer to the building, still hidden, and waited. The shop owner appeared at the window and looked around outside as if knowing someone was out there. 

After Errol left the window, Grayson took off, and Richie went on his way, wondering what was going on. But he wanted to keep his distance from the situation. If Grayson had anything to do with what Errol did - whatever it was - he was heading the other way. 

Putting it behind him, Richie made his way to that evening's destination. A small store where the owners were gone on vacation. Supposedly. 

Grayson was watching him now. Just wanting to make sure the kid didn't run off and tell anyone. Instead, the kid went about his business, which included robbery. Perhaps he didn't have any scruples. 

He watched Richie as he broke in, then after a few minutes heard a shot, then the kid stumbling out holding his stomach. Seems he ended up with a student after all. 

* * *

Grayson had taught him the basics before MacLeod took his head. Other than the fact that he didn't have a teacher, Richie wasn't too broken up over Grayson's death. Revenge for his death however, would come later, when he was stronger and more skilled with a sword. 

He just went back to his life of crime, taking other Immortals as much as he could. He'd survived so far, going wherever his fancy took him. At the moment, he was in Portland, Oregon. For the last few years, he'd gained strength from each Quickening, being ruthless with the Immortals he met, or stole from. His sword was still stained from the previous night's fight. He didn't even know the guy's name. 

The guy had picked an argument with Richie while he was fixing his motorcycle, which blocked the road where Mr. Attitude wanted to go. It was a powerful Quickening, and now Richie felt strong enough to avenge Grayson's death. It was time to go back to Seacouver and face Errol Flynn. 

Richie had become a Quickening junkie. Which made him even more dangerous, since he would do anything to win. It was a need that coursed through him, like any addiction. A Quickening wouldn't reject him. 

* * *

It was odd being back in Seacouver. Richie hadn't been back since Grayson's death. But he still knew his way around and how to get to the antique store. When he got there, it was a completely different place. The store was gone and it had been turned fully into a private residence. _Maybe they'll know where the antique guy is._ Grayson had never told Richie the guy's name, just that he was an Immortal too. 

Hoping someone was home, he knocked on the door. A few moments later an attractive woman answered. "Yes, may I help you?" She kept the door open enough to poke her head out. 

Richie smiled. "Well, maybe. I'm looking for someone who used to run an antique store here. I thought perhaps you might now where he is." 

She thought for a moment, not sure she wanted to divulge the information. "You must mean Mr. MacLeod. My husband and I bought this place from him about four years ago. I think he runs a martial arts dojo or something now." 

"Do you know where it is?" 

"Sorry. I can't recall. But there aren't very many of them in town." 

"Well, thank you for your time, and I appreciate your help." 

"Sure. Good luck." With a smile, Richie nodded farewell and went in search of a phone book. 

  


He should have figured it would be the last one he tried. There were only four martial arts centers in Seacouver. He stayed out of sight, but close enough to feel the Buzz. Obviously, he couldn't just march on in and Challenge him in front of any patrons. He'd come back tomorrow afternoon, and Challenge him then. 

  


Richie strolled into the dojo and looked around for MacLeod. There were a few people working out, and MacLeod was in the office in the back. He was already looking up when Richie entered the door. He sat back and presumably rested his hand on his sword. Walking back, Richie gave the air of being headstrong and impulsive. 

"Can I help you?" MacLeod asked. 

"Are you the guy that killed Grayson?" 

This took MacLeod aback. "That was four years ago." 

"But you're not denying it?" 

"No. What business is it of yours?" 

"He was my teacher." 

"It couldn't have been for very long." MacLeod thought for a moment. The kid looked vaguely familiar to him. Then it came to him. "You're the one who delivered that package, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, what of it? He called me off the street and said he'd pay me - well, I might add - to just deliver the package." 

"Well, my point is, you weren't Immortal then, so you can't be that old as an Immortal." 

"So?" 

"Are you here to Challenge me?" He knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from the kid. 

"You better believe it." 

"Grayson had it coming, and he Challenged me. It was a fair fight. Why come after me?" 

"Because you killed him! And from what I understand, this is what we do. There can be only one." 

"Fine. There's an abandoned warehouse not far from here. I'll be there at dusk." 

* * *

Richie was there first. Waiting with an anxiety that could prove fatal. He had no idea how old MacLeod was, how good he was. Obviously he was good enough to beat Grayson. To beat MacLeod, Richie would have to calm down and get in control. 

He practiced with his sword for a few minutes to loosen his muscles. Getting a cramp in the midst of a lunge wouldn't help him. 

It wasn't long before he felt the Buzz. MacLeod appeared in a doorway, katana at his side. He could see the boy was antsy to get fighting. He'd only seen one other person like this, and that person had been a junkie. As MacLeod got closer, he could see it in his eyes. He was beyond help. But it didn't matter. He had a reason, if he needed one, besides "there can be only one" to kill him. 

He had asked Joe to see what he could find on him once they identified him. A string of kills, never any longer than a week since the last one. And he could fight dirty. And now he had Alec Hill's killer before him. Jennifer had come to MacLeod asking vengeance for her husband's death. 

Stopping within eight feet of Richard Ryan, MacLeod raised his sword and introduced himself. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." 

"Richie Ryan. I hope you're prepared to lose." 

"I won't be losing." 

Richie gave a smirk and short laugh, then took his stance. With a controlled vengeance, MacLeod initiated the battle. Richie easily parried, then returned the blow. 

Richie was better than MacLeod expected, but not good enough. Adrenaline and the need for a Quickening drove Richie, but it also made him more vulnerable. MacLeod got in a cut across Richie's upper sword arm. He was getting worn down....not much longer and MacLeod would have him. 

Richie was getting frustrated. He had only gotten in one minor slash on MacLeod's thigh. Even with his sword arm wounded, he fended the Scot off long enough while his arm healed. But his energy was beginning to wane. 

In an attempt to parry, Richie's arm gave out, allowing MacLeod's blade to slice across his chest. The pain brought him to his knees. MacLeod did a fancy maneuver that sent Richie's sword flying out of his hand and out of reach. The next thing he knew, a sword at his neck. 

"This is for Alec Hill." 

"Wh-who?" 

"The man you killed a few days ago. His name was Alec, and you made his wife a widow." 

"He picked the fight with me!" 

"Grayson picked the fight with me. It doesn't matter." He brought his sword back to strike. "There can be only one." And he swung, Richie's headless body crumpling to the ground. 

Click for ending 

* * *

To the Beginning 

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

Nessa's Heavenly Creations 

* * *


	5. Choices: Ending

End - Choices by Daire

_Choices_

  
By Daire

Ending 

The morning sunlight streamed onto Richie's face, and Richie woke up with a start. When he woke fully, he was glad to realize he hadn't yet made his wish. The medallion had found its way somewhere between the covers. After retrieving it, he laid back down and held it in front of his face, staring at it. 

For a while, perhaps an hour or so, he lay pondering on what to do. Would it really work? Did he want to take a chance with the consequences? Perhaps an outcome would be better than what he'd dreamt. Perhaps not. 

With a deep breath, he clutched the medallion tight in his hand and........... 

**The End**

* * *

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

08/17/1999 

Nessa's Heavenly Creations 

* * *


End file.
